


Waking Hours

by letsgooutintherain



Series: Sleepless Nights [2]
Category: Fullmetal Alchemist - All Media Types
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-27
Updated: 2015-06-27
Packaged: 2018-04-06 10:52:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 595
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4218981
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/letsgooutintherain/pseuds/letsgooutintherain
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It doesn't matter how tired he is. If the nightmares won't let Roy sleep, then Ed will stay awake with him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Waking Hours

The smell of coffee finally got Ed into a resemblance of being awake. He leaned back against the counter, sipping at a glass of water, the cold of the tiles seeping into his flesh foot. Roy leaned next to him, close enough for their arms to brush against each other. 

The silence around them was born from tiredness, and the soft gurgling of the coffee machine, underlined by their steady breathing, was the only thing to disturb the night. The rest of the city was asleep and not a sound made his way to them from beyond the walls of the kitchen.

A soft click shook Ed from his haze as the coffee signaled it was ready. Yawning he reached for the mugs, filled them and padded over to the refrigerator to add some milk to Roy's, before dumping sugar into his own. 

When Ed looked up, Roy's gaze was on him, lips curled into something that was not yet a smile, but Ed would take any progress he could get. Roy had dark circles under his eyes, his eyelids heavy with sleep, but body and mind to wary to contemplate going back to bed. Ed handed him his coffee.

"Come on, standing on the cold floor is dumb," Ed said with a tired smile and pulled Roy out of the kitchen and into the living room. Roy followed without protest and let himself be seated on the couch in front of the fireplace. 

It didn't take long for Ed to set the wood alight and when the first flames flared up, casting the room into their soft and warm light, he made himself comfortable on the couch next to Roy. 

Pointedly ignoring the grandfather clock that read a quarter to three in the morning he reached out to Roy and pulled him close. Roy just scooted down a bit so his head lay on Ed's chest where he could listen to a heart beating with life. 

Ed smiled and sleepily carded a hand through Roy's hair, humming under his breath. He didn't need to ask what exactly that dream had been about. Roy's actions spoke louder than any words could ever have. And if Roy wanted to talk Ed would be here anyway. 

Craning his neck a bit Ed realised that his coffee stood abandoned on the table next to the couch, just out of reach with Roy laying practically on top of him. Roy's cup was equally untouched, steam still rising. 

Roy's breath slowly deepened while his fingers ghosted over Ed's arm and then circled his wrist once more, cool fingers pressing against his pulse point. 

Ed blinked, fighting against the sleep that threatened at the edges of his mind. Without the coffee to keep him going the couch was far too comfortable. 

Roy shifted a bit before settling again and Ed resumed stroking through his hair. He could feel Roy's breath slowing down further and couldn't suppress a small smile. 

"Sleep well, bastard. I'll be right here," Ed whispered.

A few more minutes he just lay there, but Roy made no move to wake again and so he finally gave in and closed his eyes. 

The coffee would be cold in the morning. He would have a crick in the neck when he woke up and so would Roy. They would miss the alarm going off and Hawkeye would come by and shoot them for being late. Right now Ed couldn't care less. He was so very tired and he had his arms full of Roy. Why the hell should he bother?

**Author's Note:**

> For Roy/Ed week, bonus day. Prompt: Free for all, anything you want.  
> I wasn't sure what to do with this day. And then crowhat over on tumblr asked for "fix-it" fics if we took the prompt angst. Well here you go.  
> All mistakes are my own.


End file.
